


will you sleep safe and sound?

by ApatheticRobots



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Light Angst, M/M, Not Really Dating (but it Might as Well Be)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-03
Updated: 2020-12-03
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:08:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27854834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ApatheticRobots/pseuds/ApatheticRobots
Summary: A million years ago he'd have balked at the idea of finding comfort with any 'Con, much less Starscream out of all of them. But this was now, so here he was, curled up in Starscream's arms with his back pressed against the seeker's chassis, finding more peace in the quiet thrum of his engine than he'd been able to since the war ended.
Relationships: Starscream/Wheeljack (Transformers)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 73





	will you sleep safe and sound?

**Author's Note:**

> title is from "a little messed up" by june, specifically the acoustic version because its a fucking bop. this was written exclusively between the hours of 11pm-4am on various days and is unbeta'd so there might be some issues here and there.
> 
> takes place some time post exrid 33 but timelines are fucky and taao kinda sucks so i cant pin it down exactly. starscreams in charge and theyre gay.

No one would deny that the arrangement they had was weird.

That was, if they talked about it.

But hypothetically, if it was something that was ever acknowledged out loud, none of them would deny it was strange. Wheeljack wouldn't deny it, Starscream wouldn't deny it, certainly none of their (or, Wheeljack's) friends would deny it. 

But they didn't talk. Their friends didn't know. So they both just silently and individually made a note of how weird it was then went back to what they were doing.

If he was asked, once again in this hypothetical scenario where it was openly discussed, Wheeljack wasn't sure he'd be able to exactly pinpoint when or how it started. He could give you a general time and a general reason, but nothing more specific than that. No justification that would satisfy much of anyone, especially considering the other party member was  _ Starscream _ of all mechs.

But start it did. So here they were.

Wheeljack was pretty sure the guard at the base of Starscream's apartment had his own assumptions about their arrangement. It wasn't often that any mech was given unconditional access to the building, after all. The complete opposite of often actually. Meaning, Wheeljack was about the only mech who the guard(s) had orders to allow up at any time, on any day. Or to let up at all. 

So yeah, they all probably had assumptions. Probably even had bets. Wheeljack didn't really care. They never approached him about it, and they probably never asked Starscream out of concern for their job security, so what did he care? Let them speculate. Let them  _ assume. _ They were probably wrong, anyways.

To be fair, it hadn't started as what it was. It had  _ started _ several weeks ago, when Wheeljack had stopped by to hand over some reports as well as try and get permission for a new project. Normally he'd have just waited until the next day, when Starscream was in the office, but… well, the request wasn't really one he wanted getting around. It wasn't  _ cruel  _ or anything, just… a tad more ambitious than people usually thought he was. Starscream would get it. Windblade, bless her spark, would not. And hey, if he brought the reports, he could kill two birds with one rock, or whatever the saying was.

Maybe it wasn't real nice to discuss work stuff outside of work, but when he sent Starscream a ping asking if he could stop by the seeker had agreed, so he was clearly fine with it.

They had talked about the reports. It hadn't taken them long, and then they'd moved onto Wheeljack's project (a device that could put mechs into stasis just by pointing it at them and pressing a button), which… Wheeljack supposed at some point he forgot Starscream was an academic too. Forgot that he'd had a vested interest in science before the war. Because instead of just giving him a yes or no, Starscream asked about the how and why of it. And of course Wheeljack wasn't going to turn down an opportunity to talk about his ideas.

And then four hours had passed and he'd only realized when Starscream had gotten up mid-sentence to grab them both a cube, moments before his tanks pinged him with a low fuel warning.

"I should get going," he'd said.

"But we're having such a thrilling conversation," Starscream had replied, handing him one of the cubes. "Go on, what were you saying about the battery?"

So he'd gone on. And on. And… on.

And then he'd realized he was getting sluggish and five more hours had passed and-- "Oh, Primus, I really gotta get goin'," he'd said, processor going slightly hazy with exhaustion.

"It's late," Starscream had said. “And it's far too dangerous for you to travel at this hour, especially tired as you are. I have a guest room. Stay the night." And then he hadn't waited for an answer before getting up and getting ready for bed himself.

So… Wheeljack had just kinda gone along with it. Set himself up in the guest berth and laid down to recharge. It was a whole lot more comfortable than his own, and he was out within seconds.

He'd only managed to get a few hours of recharge out of it, because a few hours into it there'd been a hoarse shout that had immediately roused him and had him reaching for a weapon that wasn't there. Because this wasn't his room, right, scrap. He grabbed the spare blaster in his subspace instead and hurried through the dark apartment towards the source of the sound. Which had turned out to be Starscream's room.

He'd hesitated for maybe a second, within which there was another noise like a sob, before shoving the door open.

Rather than the intruder/assassin he'd been expecting (dreading), the only thing he saw was Starscream sitting bolt upright on the berth, arms wrapped around himself and eyes wide and wings shaking.

"Starscream?" he'd asked quietly.

Starscream's head shot up, fear in his optics for a split second before his processor caught up and he took a shaky deep breath. "Wheeljack," he'd said, voice wavering. "I-- apologize. I didn't mean to… wake you."

Wheeljack dropped the blaster back in his subspace before walking over (careful not to startle the seeker) and taking a seat on the berth next to him.

"Nightmare?" he'd asked, voice soft. Starscream nodded.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Starscream shook his head.

"Do you want me to leave?" 

After several moments of deliberation, Starscream shook his head again, firmly avoiding optic contact.

"Okay," Wheeljack had said. And, slowly, making sure to project his actions, he'd reached over and set a hand on Starscream's back, just between his wings. The seeker had tensed, and he'd waited to be shaken off, but the protest had never come. 

Wheeljack knew Decepticons were kind of weird about touching other mechs in a  _ friendly _ way. He couldn't blame them, really, as far as he knew friendly touch was usually a little hard to come by within their army. So he wouldn't have blamed Starscream if he didn't want someone who'd been on the opposite side of the war getting anywhere near him, especially not while he was vulnerable like this.

But Starscream hadn't complained, or shoved him away. He'd just pressed back into the hand resting on him. So Wheeljack had thrown caution to the wind and scooted over and wrapped his arms around the seeker in a hug.

Starscream had gone completely, utterly still. But then slowly, and to Wheeljack's mild surprise, he'd leaned into it and raised his arms and returned the embrace.

They'd sat like that for a while. Wheeljack couldn't know how long for certain, because he hadn't managed to check the time before Starscream had fallen back into recharge, and he'd followed moments later.

He'd expected waking up still tangled together would be a lot more awkward. But… it hadn't been. If anything, he'd have called it comfortable.

He'd gone back the next night with another ping asking if they could discuss his project. Starscream had let him up. 

That time, he hadn't even brought up the guest room.

And that was weeks ago. He'd kept going back.

A million years ago he'd have balked at the idea of finding comfort with any 'Con, much less Starscream out of all of them. But this was now, so here he was, curled up in Starscream's arms with his back pressed against the seeker's chassis, finding more peace in the quiet thrum of his engine than he'd been able to since the war ended.

It was easier if they didn't talk. They hadn't talked about this besides that initial question of  _ do you want me to leave? _ and talking about it any more would make the both of them acknowledge that there might have actually been something deeper about all this. Which neither of them were quite willing (ready) to do.

But… there was something about tonight that felt off. Different. And maybe it was a bad idea, but they'd been doing this for long enough that Wheeljack had no problem throwing caution to the wind and speaking up.

"You seem tense," he muttered, voice seeming infinitely loud in the otherwise silent room. "Somethin' wrong?"

Starscream stilled, and Wheeljack was about to just tell him to forget he asked, but then the seeker vented harshly and tightened his hold around Wheeljack.

"...Do you think of the war often, Wheeljack?"

Ooh, great opener, this was clearly gonna be a fun one. (He noted that he'd probably been spending too much time with Starscream if even his internal monologue was starting to be sarcastic.) 

"I guess not," he said. "I mean, I don't  _ not _ think about it, but I'm usually too busy with what's goin' on here and what I'm workin' on to reminisce a whole lot." Sometimes the memories cropped up more often than others. Like when he got too deep into his work and his mind started wondering and he ended up thinking about how he was in an arrangement with someone that had killed some of his friends. That he'd killed some of the friends of. That they had been enemies, on opposite sides of a war, and now they were… something else. When those thoughts got louder, he usually took it as a sign that he needed to take a break and grab some Energon or nap or something. "You?"

Armor creaked as Starscream tightened his hold again. Something pinched Wheeljack's plating, but he wouldn't complain. He'd just subtly fix it later. "Something similar, I suppose," Starscream replied. "The life of a leader is never dull, after all, I rarely have a moment to spare for such unimportant things as thinking of the past. I'm quite good at  _ not _ thinking about it. But-- well."

"Well?" Wheeljack prompted.

Starscream stayed silent, once more adjusting his hold so he could press his face firmly against the back of Wheeljack's neck. There was another harsh vent. Wheeljack waited.

True to form, given enough time in silence, Starscream started talking again. "I had a meeting today," he said, voice low. "Don't even remember who they were. Some neutral who was dissatisfied with something or other. I couldn't tell you a thing about them. But-- I wasn't bending to what they wanted, and they kept getting angrier, and they yelled at me. Shouted, slammed their fist on my desk, got in my face, it was all very dramatic."

He paused. Took a breath. A habit picked up by a lot of mechs who spent too much time on other planets.

"And I ought to be used to it, right? Working in politics like I do? I  _ am _ used to it-- Plenty of mechs have yelled at me plenty of times since I started taking an active role in Cybertron's rebuilding. I can't name them all on both servos. I've taken all their anger in stride, brushed it off and kept on going. But today--" His claws scored marks on Wheeljack's chest as he pulled the scientist closer. He'd smooth them out in the morning with a quiet apology. "I don't know what it was. Their frame type, maybe, they were awfully large. But they shouted at me, and they got angry, and suddenly I was back… then. Back there. Among the Decepticons, being shouted at by Megatron for some imaginary infraction or another. And-- I was just… frozen. I couldn't do anything. The guards eventually escorted them out, but I--"

He shook his head again, the crest of his helm scraping against Wheeljack's neck. Carefully as not to startle him, Wheeljack pulled away just enough to turn himself around so he could pull Starscream against his own chest, resting his head against the seeker's and planting a hand between his wings.

“Starscream,” he said quietly. “You know he can’t touch you, right?”

“I know.”

“He’s long gone from Cybertron, stuck on a ship out in the middle of nowhere.” The Lost Light hadn’t tried to contact them in… a while. Who knew what those mechs were up to? “You never have to see him again.” 

“I  _ know, _ ” Starscream said again, words slightly muffled where he pressed his face against Wheeljack’s plating. “I know that. I’m the safest as I’ve ever been from him. I  _ know _ that, and yet-- I’m still  _ scared. _ I’m still  _ frightened _ of him. And I hate it.” His voice was tight when he spoke. Even Wheeljack, with all his emotional inadequacy, knew how big of a deal it was for him to admit he was genuinely afraid, especially saying it out loud.

The war had affected them all, there was no denying that. There was a reason Wheeljack slept with a blaster under his berth and another in his subspace, after all. But-- as he’d figured out over the last couple weeks-- it had affected Starscream a lot differently.

He couldn’t help but wonder sometimes what the seeker would be like had the war not happened. Or had it gone differently. Had Megatron been a little bit less of a tyrant, not been the kind of leader he was. Had he not hurt Starscream the way he had. Almost certainly still egotistical, but it would be based out of genuine self-confidence rather than compensating for a crippling lack of it. Hopefully a little less suspicious of everyone around him. Less paranoid. Not  _ trusting,  _ because even at his best that wasn’t like him, but more willing to accept that not everyone was out to get him.

Wheeljack didn’t like thinking about it for long. He made a job out of doing the impossible, but even  _ he _ couldn’t undo the war. That was one impossibility he wasn’t going to think about.

“I’m guessing talking to someone professional about all this is off the table, right?” 

  
A low snort. “Decidedly. The world has enough ammunition to use against me. I don’t need to go out of my way to provide them with any more.” 

“Figured.” If Starscream had a hard time being honest with Wheeljack, who he’d spent enough time with to have more than enough proof to know he didn’t have an ulterior motive, the likelihood of him being honest with a therapist was next to nil. “I can at least promise you that you’re safe now.”

Starscream gave him a mildly sardonic look. “I’m  _ never _ truly safe, Wheeljack. Not in my position.”

“Sure you are.” He gestured at the room. “The only way anyone’s getting in here is through the door, which is locked. You ain’t got any windows or, hell, even air ducts, if you’re worried about some minicon trying to do anything. The only way up into the apartment proper is by taking the elevator which is not only guarded by several mechs who you pay too much for them to think about betraying you, but requires both a keycard and external activation to function. The door up here that leads to the elevator is also locked. There’s defensive mechanisms in the elevator shaft itself, ones that  _ I _ helped install, so you know they’re credible. And,” he added, “I’m here. And I wouldn’t let anything happen to you.”

The sardonic look turned to something disbelieving. A raised brow and pursed lips. “No offense, Wheeljack, but you’re not exactly the warrior type. You would  _ really _ risk yourself standing against someone with ill intent? Against  _ Megatron? _ For  _ me _ ?”

“Yeah,” Wheeljack said without even a moment’s hesitation. “I would.”

Silence followed. A solid few seconds of it.

“Well,” Starscream said, stilted and slow, “you talk a big talk. But there’s no guarantee it’s anything more than  _ just _ talk.” That was his ‘planning something’ voice. 

Wheeljack frowned, and he knew that Starscream could read him well enough that he could get it even with the mask in the way. “Starscream, if you hire someone to try and break into your apartment and attack you just to see if I’ll actually defend you, I  _ will _ just let them shoot you.”

The seeker pouted. “You’re no fun.”

“And you’re ridiculous.” He pulled Starscream closer again, sighing slightly. “Is it really that hard for you t’ believe me when I say I’d do my damnedest to protect you if it came down to it?”

“In my pedes? Yes.” There was the slight twinge of claws against his back. He didn’t mention it. “...It’s been a while since I had anyone willing to stand up for me. Especially against  _ him.  _ Even my own trine would let him shove me around. They cared, but not enough, apparently.” Oh, Skywarp and Thundercracker. Like-- Wheeljack knew circumstances were kind of strenuating, especially in terms of their relationship, and he  _ knew _ it wasn’t really his place to speak on it. But he’d definitely have a few choice words if he ever ran into them.

Wheeljack shuffled a bit further down so he was at optic level with Starscream. The seeker pointedly avoided looking at him, instead leaning forward and pressing his face into the crook of Wheeljack’s neck. 

“I care,” Wheeljack said. “I really do.”

After a few moments of silence, Starscream spoke, and it would’ve been hard to hear if he hadn’t been right next to Wheeljack’s audial; “I know.” 

“Do you?”

“...Yes. I do. You’ve proven it well enough at this point.” He paused. “Unless you’re just running a really long con, and this was all just a ploy to get me with my guard down.” Then he leaned back, expression skeptical. “...Nevermind, you’re not smart enough for that. You’d have caved long before now.”

“Hey!” Wheeljack said indignantly, more joking than genuinely offended. “I’m  _ plenty _ smart!”

“Of course you are,” Starscream soothed, his smile patronizing as he bumped his forehead against Wheeljack’s. “Just not when it comes to complex political machinations.”

“Y’know, I think I should be more insulted by that,” he said, “but if it makes you feel safer, I guess I’m happy to be called an idiot.” He didn’t understand espionage. Like, as a concept he did, and he knew well enough from Jazz and other mechs he’d worked with during the war that it was plenty necessary, but he’d never had a knack for it. He couldn’t lie to save his life. 

Starscream blinked at him a couple times, bewildered, then smiled again and planted his head against Wheeljack’s shoulder again. “ _ Now _ who’s being ridiculous?”

“Still you,” he said with a grin in his tone. “Always gonna be you, out of the two of us.” 

A sigh. “I suppose I can be alright with that.” (Starscream? Conceding to literally anything? It’s more likely than you think.) He went quiet again. His voice was about as soft as before when he spoke next; “Would you really fight Megatron for me?”

“In a sparkbeat,” he answered, completely honest. He couldn’t promise he’d  _ win, _ in fact he’d probably get curb-stomped immediately. He was a scientist, and absolutely no match for a warlord that had been fighting almost literally all his life. But whether or not he could win wasn’t what Starscream was asking.

In fact, he probably knew that, and it probably meant more that Wheeljack would do so anyways.

“...Thank you,” Starscream said, sounding more open than Wheeljack could ever really remember hearing him. “That-- that means a great deal.”

“Of course.”    
  


Starscream shook his head. “Don’t say that. Like it’s a given, like it’s-- just natural. Like you couldn’t see any other way of going about things. I think, I mean, I do think you get it. I know you’re not being dismissive. But I don’t think you truly understand how much that means.” He leaned back to look at Wheeljack with wide optics. “No one has ever been willing to stand against him for my sake. Not in all my years of functioning. Of everyone I’ve known, every mech I’ve considered a friend, you are the first.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

...He’d known that. Like, Starscream hadn’t outright said that, but it had been pretty heavily implied. And Wheeljack’s job was drawing conclusions. So deep down Wheeljack had, sort of, known that. But hearing it said out loud was a whole different thing.

“I’m telling the truth,” he said. “Just-- just in case you’re still not sure.”

“I know you are. And… I believe you.” There was suspicion and hesitation evident in his tone. But beneath that he really did sound like he trusted what Wheeljack was saying. Almost a little incredulous about it, actually.

Wheeljack pulled him tight against his chassis again. Starscream went willingly, pressing into the embrace and sighing. 

“I don’t really know what love is,” Starscream murmured, pulling his head back just enough that his words were clear despite their low volume. “I think I might have known once, but too much has happened since then. I don’t know what I’m doing. But… if you are willing to be patient,” he said, “I am sure I can figure it out again.”

“Hey,” Wheeljack said, soft and warm, “take all the time you need.” He curled his arms tighter, and Starscream’s engine purred where they were pressed together. “I’m in no rush.”


End file.
